Non Grata
by Alowl
Summary: A conversation between Vincent and Chaos. On fathers, revelations, and the simple fact that everything changes. Set post Dirge of Cerberus. Slight spoilers.


Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, or Dirge of Cerberus. More's the pity.

Notes: This is set directly after Dirge of Cerberus, and deals with the events that took place in that game. As I've never actually played it, there might be some mistakes – I also might have played around slightly with canon by accident. Please ignore these mistakes. This is my take on Vincent and Chaos – and the peculiar relationship between the two. The title of the piece can be loosely translated to mean "Unwelcome".

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Non Grata

_Father._

Shut up.

_Father._

I said shut up!

…_Valentine?_

Be silent, demon. I'm in no mood for your games.

…_it IS you. I should have known. What other would be so pleasant?_

And what other demon would happen to be in my head?

_Do you really wish for me to answer that question, Valentine? I may be a demon, but I'm the only one that was forced upon you. You have so many, many deliciously dark little secrets of your own…_

Stay out of my memories, Chaos.

_How can I, when with every step you take, with every throb of your blood, you clutch them close to that misshapen thing you call a heart? You're practically drowning me in memories, Turk, and you dare to blame me for it?_

Don't call me that, demon.

_Turk? Ah, but you were. And you still are. What was it that Veld told you once? "A Turk is a Turk until the day he dies." And after, in your case._

Circumstances change. All men can change. You're proof enough of that. Leave me alone, demon. I'm in no mood for your taunts.

_…do you remember your father, Valentine?_

…what?

_Your father, Valentine. Do you remember him?_

What game are you playing now, demon?

_No game. No tricks. Just – call it curiosity._

And why should I tell you? I know you, demon. You never do something without reason.

_Was it not you who once said that all things change?_

Stop twisting my words, fiend.

_I'm not._

Why should I, demon? Answer me that.

_Vincent. Just – tell me. Please._

Did you just –

…

His name was Grimore Valentine.

_Yes, I know._

Shut up, Chaos.

His name was Grimore Valentine, and I _hated_ him.

_What? Why?_

Shut up! I hated him because he was a good man. And he was a good man, demon, the best I've ever known. He was a good man, a kind man – and everyone would tell me so. They'd talk about how noble he was, how wise, how he was a benefactor to the poor and the tired, a damn hero to the weak!

_Then why – _

Because everyone told me so. And because it was the only thing I ever knew about him. Can you even imagine it, demon – the only way I ever knew my father was through the mouths and lips of his _worshippers._

_Vincent?_

What do you want me to say, demon? Do you want to know that my father abandoned me when I was a child? Because he did, Chaos, he did. He left my mother in pursuit of his projects, his science – he couldn't bear to leave them be. "It's for the good of the people," he said, and he left. He left his wife, the woman he'd promised to love and cherish for some cold ShinRa lab and all the wonders science promised him. He left _me. _I was his son, his flesh and blood, and _he left me!_

_But you don't hate him._

What?

_You rant and rave of your hatred for the one who abandoned you, yet, in your heart, there is not a speck of loathing for the one who sired you._

…how did you come to know me so well, demon?

No, I suppose I don't hate him any more. I _can't_ hate him. He was my father, after all. I don't hate him. I just – don't care anymore.

I can't forgive him. I will never forgive him.

But I don't hate him. I just can't find it in myself to care for a man who was never there, a man who abandoned my mother and me.

Was that what you wanted to know, demon?

_…You're so blind, Vincent._

What?

_You really don't understand a thing, do you?_

If you're going to try and reconcile me with my father, please, demon, spare me the attempt.

_Shut up._

What?

_SHUT UP! Now you listen to me, Vincent Valentine, and listen well. Whatever made you consider Grimore Valentine when I asked of your father? As far as I'm concerned, the man can rot in whatever hell awaits him._

On that we are agreed, demon. But what in the nine hells are you talking about?

_Your father's name was Omega, my other, and never forget it._

Demon, what are you talking about?

_Shut up._

_Don't you understand yet? I am you, and you are I. We're the same person – there is no fine line that divides us any longer. Your father was mine, and mine was yours – we are no longer two separate beings, but one, indivisible._

Have you taken leave of your senses, demon? I am me, and we are certainly not the same being!

_Truly? _

_Vincent Valentine died forty years ago, at the hands of Hojo of ShinRa. You are not he. You might have been once, but no longer. And I – I was once Chaos. But Chaos was lost to the whims and machinations of the cursed scientists of ShinRa. They cut it away, took it from its proper place, changed and mutilated it until there was nothing left of the original._

_That which was once Vincent Valentine was revived by that which was once Chaos. Do you truly think that either survived that? There is nothing left of the original – either of them. There is only us._

You're lying. You have to be. You can't – you aren't -

_Am I? Look into my mind, and tell me it is not so. There is no Vincent Valentine. There is no Chaos. There is only Vincent Chaoswinged, last son of Omega. And Omega is dead. Our father is dead._

_So let me grieve, my other. Let us grieve._

…You truly believe that. And you truly are grieving.

_It was necessary, my other. I know that. I comprehend that – Omega was wakened before its rightful time. It was twisted away from its original purpose. That which has stood firm and resolute since the creation of this world was no longer what it was – and it had to be destroyed._

_I know this. I understand this. And I grieve for that which was once my father._

I did this. I killed your father.

We _did, my other. _

_You know, you're rubbing off on me. A scant handful of years ago, we could never have had this conversation._

Don't remind me. I remember.

_And a few years ago you would never have understood. We're changing. Melding. Becoming one, becoming – other._

_It's as you said. Everything changes._

But nothing is lost.

_What?_

There's a second half to the saying. "Everything changes, but nothing is lost." That's the whole of it.

I'm not saying I believe this crazy theory of yours, but – I can't dismiss it offhand. I'm not human any longer. I know that. I also know that I am myself.

And I know that were you truly a demon, you could never feel the remorse I sense within you.

So I can't believe you. But I can't not believe you either.

_Emotions are foolish things, are they not? So – irrational, so incomprehensible, so…_

Yes. I know. I understand.

…Tell me about him.

_What?_

About Omega. About your – our – father.

…_Alright._


End file.
